


Perfectly All Right

by UndodgedBullet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, but don't worry there will probably be some fluff soon maybe, especially Mukozuke and Mizumono, quite a lot of angst whoops, slight AU that will come soon probably, spoilers for Hannibal season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndodgedBullet/pseuds/UndodgedBullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Beverly Katz's death, Alana Bloom finds herself much too sad than she should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Course

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to write a Kabloom fic and this happened. Whoops.

Alana Bloom stood in place, staring straight ahead at the sliced up body. She didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. But here Beverly Katz was, in front of her. Cold, pale, and dead.

 

It took everything Alana had to not break down right then and there. Hannibal had come with her and she did not want him to see her like this. As much as she didn’t want him here with her right now, she was glad that he had came with her. She wouldn’t have been able to drive home by herself. 

 

There were a few questions that were currently flowing through Alana’s brain - who had done this, how they were sick enough to have even come up with the idea to do this, and why. Why did it have to be Beverly? 

 

It was then, Alana realized, that she was much too sad about all of this than she should be. She and Beverly had only been friends. Only friends, she kept telling herself, refusing to even indulge in the thoughts of wanting to be more. Besides, it was too late. Beverly was dead.

 

When Alana had first been told about Beverly’s state, she didn’t want to believe it. Beverly was a fighter. If Alana were to choose the next person to become a victim, it definitely would not have been Beverly. But now that Alana was here, staring at Beverly’s lifeless form, she had no choice but to believe it.

 

When Alana had first seen Beverly like this, she was angry. Angrier than she had been in a while. She wanted to find whoever did this and kill them herself. The anger soon turned into betrayal. She shouldn’t be feeling betrayed — she knew very well that it wasn’t Beverly’s fault she had been killed. Alana almost felt guilty for the feeling of betrayal she had. But the betrayal turned into sadness, and Alana wanted nothing more than to hide in her bedroom and cry. 

 

The image of Beverly all sliced up and put out for display like this was too overwhelming, but Alana found herself unable to look away. It was almost painful, seeing Beverly like this. 

 

If Beverly had to go, Alana would have preferred for it to be quiet and quick. But here Beverly was, sliced up and prepared with obvious delicacy. Beverly didn’t deserve this at all. Alana couldn’t help thinking that her sweet, caring, sassy, and brilliant Beverly should still be alive. She should still be alive to make passing comments about a killer, to brighten everyone up at a particularly gruesome crime scene, to just be there.

 

The longer Alana stared at Beverly’s corpse, the more she began to regret. Regret what, she didn’t know, but she was regretting. 

 

She didn’t want Beverly to be dead. But she had to stay strong. There was no undoing anything. Alana would have to continue on, knowing that Beverly was gone and never would be able to come back. 

 

That last thought of Alana’s was what made it finally sink in. Beverly was never going to be able to come back. The only thing left of her would be memories. 

 

Alana finally forced her eyes away from Beverly. She ran a hand through her hair, the hand quickly moving to wipe at her eyes where tears were forming. Alana suddenly felt weak, like she was ready to collapse at any second if she didn’t find something to hold her up. She was starting to feel light-headed and dizzy. She took a glance at Hannibal, who was looking at her with a concerned expression.

 

“Alana,” Hannibal started. “Are you all right?”

 

“Yes. Of course I am,” she replied in a voice that sounded almost helpless, blinking back tears, knowing very well that she was as far as she could possibly be from being all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this was much shorter than I had originally planned whoops but don't worry, there will be at least one more chapter yes


	2. A Shattered Teacup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said that there would perhaps be fluff soon, but I didn’t mean THIS soon.

Hannibal had driven Alana to her house after they left the crime scene. She had managed to not lose it until she was in the safety of her home, where she broke down. The counter in her living room was the only thing currently holding her up. Her knees were weak, and she didn’t trust that they would keep her standing if she didn’t have something to support her.

 

She was shaking and felt cold and drained. Alana knew that what she needed was to relax, to try to sleep. But everytime Alana shut her eyes, the impression of Beverly was there, haunting her. Alana really didn’t want for this to be real. She wanted nothing more than to wake up in her bed and find out that this was all just a nightmare — as bad as a nightmare as this would be — and be able to see Beverly again. But alas, that was not going to happen and Alana knew that very well.

 

A few tears made their escape from Alana’s eyes and streaked down her face. She was glad she was alone at the moment — she certainly didn’t want anyone seeing her like this. She felt weak and vulnerable, like a fragile teacup just waiting to fall out of someone’s hands and shatter once she hit the floor. Alana was nothing but a shattered teacup.

 

If this were anyone but Beverly, Alana would have been able to put her head back, close her eyes, and wade into the quiet of the stream. But this was Beverly. Alana will not be able to wade into the stream. She’s already at neck-length in the water. She’s drowning slowly and painfully. Soon, the darkness is going to be coming into her. It will come and it will be insidious. It’ll go up her nose and into her ears. And she won’t be able to help feeling like she’s just been poisoned.

 

Alana finally gathers the strength to stand up and walk up the stairs to her bedroom. She collapses onto her bed when she gets there. She just lays there, staring at the ceiling. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if she wanted to. She is mentally drained, unable to do anything. She can’t even think straight, which she is grateful for. If she were able to think, it would only make her more depressed.

 

Alana’s phone rings. She doesn’t answer it.

 

Then it rings again. She still doesn’t answer it.

 

She doesn’t even check to see who is calling, though she’s almost certain that it’s Hannibal. She knows he would be calling to check up on her, to see if she was okay. But Alana couldn’t bring herself to pretend to be fine, to pretend that she didn’t feel like her heart had just been torn out of her body. She just let the phone ring as she stared blankly up at her ceiling.

  
It was four in the morning when Alana finally fell asleep. She didn’t dream. She was surrounded by darkness swirling around her, seeing a flicker of Beverly’s lifeless body every so often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, though. this was so painful for me to write. it actually made me cry whoops


End file.
